


A New Kind of High

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Humor, Romance, Sherlock Being an Idiot, Sherlock Flirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has finally decided it's time to act on his ever growing feelings for Molly. But he's rather smitten and is going overboard with the flirting, and he's not exactly getting the reaction he hoped for. It's likely he should have just listened to John's advice before trying to do things his own round about way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Kind of High

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a prompt from an anon ask on Tumblr. They wanted to see a pining Sherlock who was flirting with Molly, but not quite getting the reaction he hoped for. Hope everyone enjoys this one! ;)

Sherlock stared...and stared...and the flame in his eyes only burned brighter.

John leaned over to his friend and hissed, "When are you going to tell her?"

Sherlock smiled a little as Molly tugged her gloves on and readied the body she would be showing them.

"Oh don't worry, John. I think she knows," he whispered back.

John frowned back and forth between the two people.

"Sherlock, you said you'd make it clear three days ago. It doesn't seem to me that you're a couple yet."

Sherlock shrugged. "These things take...time."

"You need to just _tell_ her. I'm not sure what you've been doing for the past three days, but I don't think its working."

The detective smirked at his friend. "John, Molly and I have a level of understanding that transcends _words._ She can read me like a book! Perhaps when you and Mary have known each other as long, you'll understand." He clapped John on the shoulder before strolling over to the table where Molly was.

John spared a moment to roll his eyes and shake his head before joining them.

Sherlock circled around the table so that he was standing right next to Molly. She gave him a quick glance of surprise, but then spoke.

"So um, would you like to...or should I?" she asked, gesturing to the body and looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock's eyes sparkled as he looked down at her. "I'd very much like to hear you do it," he said happily, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Oh...ok. So um, this might actually look like the cause of death was asphyxiation. You can see the bruising around her neck." She pointed out the purplish marks. Then she grasped the woman's shoulder, rolling her on her side. "But actually, there's significant damage to the back of her head."

Sherlock leaned down to examine the wounds before straightening up again to listen to Molly.

"I suppose what's interesting isn't that she died of the blunt force trauma to the back of her head, but what I found in the wounds." Molly walked over to the other table and retrieved the sample. "There were bits of brick in the wound. Didn't her friend claim she found her like this at their flat?"

"She did indeed," Sherlock said with a smile.

"Right," Molly said with a little nod. "So that would beg the question, is there brick anywhere in that flat? And if not, then the friend may be lying."

Sherlock drew a breath and let it out slowly as he gave Molly a rather obvious 'up and down' glance. "I do enjoy hearing your...deductions, Dr. Hooper," he breathed out in a low voice.

"Oh good," she answered in a bright voice, and gave him a perfunctory smile before walking back over to the body and working to cover her back up.

Sherlock was undeterred and stepped over directly behind her, leaning down a bit. "Perhaps you'd be willing to help me analyze the bits of brick you found," he all but whispered in her ear.

Molly frowned a bit as she turned her head enough to see his close proximity. "Sherlock, can you back up a bit? You're rather in my way."

John had to turn his head and act as if he were clearing his throat in an attempt to cover up the laughs of amusement at his friend's failed flirting. That earned him a glare from the detective.

As Sherlock took a step back and Molly went to throw her gloves away, she said, "I could probably help you out after my lunch break. Say...around one?"

Sherlock gave her another warm smile and approached, looking at her hair which was up in a little twist at the base of her hair line. He had really barely registered what her answer to his question was.

"Your hair, Molly...this is a different style. I like the way-"

"No honestly, Sherlock, I really can't help you till one."

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "I...I wasn't...I was just saying that your hair-"

"Yes, I know what you were saying, Sherlock." She rolled her eyes and chuckled as if dealing with a child who had tried the same old trick one too many times. "Why don't you save your breath and just come back at one, ok?"

Sherlock's eyes darted around the room, beginning to wonder what was happening.

"Right...yes. I'll um, see you at one then, Molly." He walked past her, still trying to register how unresponsive she was being.

"Ok, see you later!" she chirped and had turned to continue working by the time he reached the door and looked back.

Sherlock pushed through the doors with a huff and John followed along beside him, grinning.

"What was that you were saying about her reading you like a book?" John asked, nudging Sherlock.

"Shut up!" Sherlock growled as he punched the elevator button. "I'll make it clear, you'll see. Actually, you won't see! I don't want you coming with me this afternoon. I'm sure your presence is throwing things off. Most of the meaningful moments in our past have occurred when we were alone."

"Oh I see!" John responded in a thoughtful tone. "So I was creating a disturbance in the force?"

"Precisely. Stay out of my way and surely things will go more smoothly."

"Ok, good...well you let know how that goes," John added with a hidden smile.

Sherlock still managed to puff out his chest and regain his confidence that had dipped slightly.

"Oh I will."

* * *

Three hours later, Sherlock waltzed into Bart's lab feeling ever so sure of himself. In his estimation, there was no reason not to feel sure. Why else would he be acting on this now unless things were so right?

Moriarty had finally been removed and was no longer a threat. (Surely with Mycroft keeping tabs daily, he would be sure to stay in prison for at least a good long while.) The British government had been grateful enough that the whole Magnussen business had seemed to magically become insignificant. And of course, there was also Molly herself; she was available.

He'd been harboring disturbingly strong feelings for longer than he liked to admit. Naturally, it began right before his 'death' and lengthy absence from London. He wasn't sure, hadn't worked it all out, but had originally intended to make a go of it whenever he returned home. He'd taken for granted that she'd be right there waiting with open arms. Of course, that hadn't been the case. When he saw what the reality was, Sherlock gallantly stepped aside, choosing to go without her rather than turning her whole life upside down.

The timing was dreadful with the Magnussen case. No sooner does he get pulled headfirst into one of the most life changing cases he'd ever taken on, but then he finds that Molly is once again single! As usual, his work came first. He refused to compromise his abilities on a case of that magnitude, or put her at risk, by pursuing her then. And so he waited.

But the time was right now. It couldn't be more right! Everything had finally fallen into place and for lack of a better word; Sherlock Holmes was feeling downright...domestic. This was the first time since he'd begun falling in love with Molly that he really just _let himself_ fall. Now he was free falling and wasn't even trying to stop himself. It felt new, terrifying, and intoxicating...and all he wanted was to hold her tight as he plummeted.

Molly was just getting set up as Sherlock walked over. She threw him a quick smile and he returned it.

"Right on time, Sherlock. Where's John?"

"I felt we could manage this one. No need to keep him out unnecessarily, what with the new baby at home."

"Well that's considerate of you. I'll have to pop in to see them again soon. I'm sure Lizzie already looks much different. Babies change so quickly in these early weeks."

"I'd say she's largely unchanged, but then again I'm informed on a regular basis by John that I 'know nothing about babies' and shouldn't act like I do."

Molly laughed and it made a warm feeling spread inside Sherlock. This was going well.

"Yes, I'm sure I wouldn't want to hear your _expert_ advice it it was my baby either," she said, still giggling.

Sherlock took a step closer. "Surely if _you_ had a baby, you wouldn't mind my being...involved...would you, Molly?" he asked, dropping his voice lower and hoping she understood his meaning.

"Oh I don't know Sherlock," she answered casually. "Depends on how involved you mean. You can't overstep bounds, can you?"

 _Bounds?_ he thought. _It would be my baby! What bounds?!_ Perhaps a slight change of subject.

"You would be an excellent mother, Molly," he said softly.

"Oh, thank," she answered brightly. "Suppose I wouldn't need you telling me what to do then!"

Sherlock frowned as yet another soft remark bounced off and fell flat.

"We should get started, don't you think?" she prompted.

"Mm, indeed."

They soon realized that there were traces of paint on the bits of brick. Molly hadn't noted that before since the paint was red. It hadn't stood out since the brick had been found in a head wound. Sherlock quickly made the connection that there was a walkway not far from this woman's flat which had a brick wall along part of it. There were sections of the wall that had been painted red. And he had also confirmed that the woman indeed had no traces of brick within her flat. Clearly she had been killed elsewhere and moved.

He puttered around the lab with her for the rest of the afternoon as well. She had other work to do, and he was all too pleased to help and stay in as close proximity to her as he could manage. Time flew, and soon Molly's shift was coming to a close.

Sherlock had taken a moment to call Lestrade and tell him to bring the roommate in for questioning. When he walked back in the room, Molly was already working on cleaning up. He sauntered over and replaced his mobile in his pocket.

"Another case, likely solved. Good to have work back to normal. I never thought I'd wish for less thrilling cases...but somehow the quieter ones are a bit more appealing right now," he said softly.

"Oh? I would think you're rather used to all the thrills by now."

Sherlock's eyes traveled over Molly's face as he leaned on the table and watched her cleaning up. He examined every inch of exposed skin, committing it to memory, as if it wasn't already unforgettable. He was drowning in her, and yet he'd barely ever touched her. He couldn't help but wonder how far gone he would be by the time thoughts became words, and words became...actions.

"Sherlock?" Molly interjected, causing him to actually meet her eyes. "Are you all right?"

His lips twitched in a smile and he moved forward slightly. "Oh I'm _far_ better than all right, Molly," he purred.

He was surprised when Molly's face contorted in a frown. "What's the matter with you, Sherlock? Look, I'm not above demanding a urine sample from you right now! You keep looking like you're on another planet, and you haven't been your usual self lately. I swear to God, if you're high-"

"Molly!" Sherlock looked just as horrified as he cut her off. "I am not _high!_ I promise you I'm not...I am simply..."

He placed his hands on his hips and stalked around a few steps, taking some frustrated breathes.

"Is that really what you think of me?" defeat dripping from his words.

Molly approached the board straight back that was now facing her. "You can be a very confusing man, Sherlock Holmes," she said gently.

The words were gentle, but their meaning cut him. _I'm not supposed to confuse her._ This wasn't working, and he was afraid he knew the reason. What if the reason she could always _see_ him so clearly was because of her love him? And what if her confusion lay in the fact that her love...no longer existed?

He let out a sigh. "I suppose I can be," he said quietly.

He had the urge to retreat; run home to Baker Street and perhaps drown himself in a violin composition. But he felt she deserved better. Perhaps he even deserved better. What was it that people needed sometimes? _Closure._

Sherlock turned and faced her again. He managed a small smile and moved past the subject of his feelings being so very foreign to her.

"You didn't eat much on your lunch break. I believe you had..." He pursed his lips. "I'd say three biscuits and a coffee. Hardly adequate for someone with your metabolism, if you're hoping to stay upright till dinner time."

She tried to hold her head up a little higher. "I also had...an orange."

"The point is that you're probably starving right now. So..." he clapped his hands together. "Where should we eat?"

Her face brightened a bit. "Um, you want to come with me? Well to be honest, I was planning on getting some take away at a new Chinese place on the way back to my flat."

"I think I know the one you mean. Come on, let's go." He grabbed his coat off a chair and was heading out the door before she could barely register what happened.

* * *

Sherlock tried to enjoy his food, he really did. But as he sat there next to her on the park bench, take away container in his lap, all he could focus on was the fact that he may have missed something. He was beginning to think he had missed something incredibly important. It may just be that Molly Hooper no longer even wants to be with him. Days of attentiveness and flirting and...no reaction to be seen.

"Sherlock?"

His head shot up and he stopped picking at his food. "Hmm?"

"Are you all right? How's your food?" she asked as she eyed him a little suspiciously.

"It's um, just fine." He took another bite in order to give his words more weight.

"Oh good." She smiled, but didn't look too convinced.

There was another moment of silence, but then she suddenly stuck her chop sticks back into the container and set it down on the bench.

"Sherlock, is there something you want to say to me?" she asked, the words suddenly pouring out.

He frowned back at her. Before he could answer, she went on.

"You're not...yourself. I can see that. And I want you to know that you can talk to me...about anything...at all." She searched his eyes, waiting expectantly.

Sherlock sighed as he placed his container down as well. "Molly, I'm not entirely sure you really want to hear this."

Molly shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before responding with a forceful tone. "I do, Sherlock. I really want to hear whatever you have to say, I promise!"

He narrowed his eyes as he analyzed her expression. Her eyes were wide, cheeks rosy, and her breathing rapid. She was clenching her little fists in her lap. She wasn't upset, she was agitated and...impatient. She was impatient, almost as if she had been waiting for him to say something. Or like she knew what was coming...

Sherlock's eyes widened to match hers, and his lips fell open as surprise washed over him. _She did know what was coming._ The smile that began forming on his mouth was contagious, and her little lips extended upward as well, though she was obviously trying not to let them.

"Well, come on, Sherlock," she said in a softer voice. "What was today about?"

He shook his head as his smile widened. "All these days...and here I thought I was missing something."

"You were, you idiot." Her tone was much more affectionate than her words were. "You were missing communication."

Sherlock grimaced in confusion. "I was communicating!"

Molly sat back, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow in expectation; clearly not impressed by his answer.

"But apparently I didn't communicate properly," he added quickly.

"I think we all know you have the ability to flirt, Sherlock. In case you were wondering, that doesn't constitute as some sort of declaration. I was hoping that would have become clear over the past few days."

"Ah...I see," he answered, looking a little sheepish. He hoped he could manage to hide this from John and avoid having to hear a smug "I told you so."

He drew a breath and looked at her intensely, not realizing how quickly it stole the air from her lungs. "I'm hoping it's not too late for an actual...declaration, as you call it," he whispered.

"Why don't you find out?" she whispered in return, carefully controlling the tremor in her voice.

"I suppose you were right," he began slowly and licked his lips. "It's no surprise that I know how to flirt. But what did come as a surprise, at least to me, was that I also know how to fall in love."

Molly pressed her lips together and he thought he saw her eyes glistening already.

"Do you know how much I love you, Molly?" he asked, his eyes pleading. "I hope you have some inkling, because I'm not sure I even know the right words to express it as strongly as I feel it."

She swallowed hard. "I'm...starting to get an idea."

He gave her a signature smirk. "Good."

He moved both of their take away containers to the ground and slid over closer to her, enjoying the way her pupils grew like a blossoming flowers. He laid one of his hands over hers that rested on the bench.

"And...is there anything else I can do to clarify things for you?" He caressed her face, using only his eyes.

"I can think of some things," she said with a giggle.

"So I'm not too late then? I haven't waited too long? It has been so very long, Molly. I never felt it was right till now, and I'm sorry for that."

Molly bumped her nose against his for a second. "There's no such thing as 'too late' for us, Sherlock. I'm fool enough to wait. I think I'd probably wait forever if I thought there was even a chance of-"

All of a sudden, Sherlock crashed his mouth into hers. It was just a shock at first, but then time slowed down and they both adjusted to this deliciously new kind of contact between them. Aside from the sudden collision of his mouth against hers, Molly was pleasantly surprised at the skill with which Sherlock used those picture perfect lips of his. Despite the fact that she had loved Sherlock for years, and apparently he felt the same, she had always thought a first kiss between them had the potential for awkwardness. It turned out there was nothing but comfort, more than she could have hoped for.

She leaned into him, sliding her hand inside his coat and suit jacket; feeling the warmth of his skin soaking through the fabric of his dress shirt. She felt him tense when she made that move, and that prompted her to pull her lips from his and remove her hand to place it instead on his cheek.

"I was getting carried away." She bit her lip as she watched him catch his breath.

"By all means, get carried away...though perhaps not in the park." He smiled and kissed her cheek before putting an arm around her and tucking her against his chest.

They stayed like that for a few minutes in blissful silence, the evening light rapidly fading around them.

"Again, forgive me for the unexplained flirting," he suddenly said.

She snuggled closer and sighed happily. "No more apologies needed for flirting, Sherlock. You now have a lifetime flirting pass available to you."

He pursed his lips and the wheels began to turn. Molly could practically see the thought process as though it were happening on the outside of his head, so she spoke again.

"Though that doesn't mean flirting is going to get you whatever you want!"

"Mm, but I can try, Dr. Hooper," he said in a rumbling voice that she could feel with her face against his chest.

"Well I certainly hope you do, Mr. Holmes. I'll enjoy it ever so much now. I won't have to wonder if you're high!" she said with a laugh.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I might be."

Molly lifted her head. "What?"

"Well naturally, I'll be on a chemical high every time I see you." He grinned down at her, looking pleased with himself.

She chuckled as she snuggled against him again.

"And the scientific flirting begins."

**Author's Note:**

> Ah the scientific flirting! An entire fic could probably be written on that aspect of their relationship alone. Sadly though, I barely passed science. Anyway! Thanks for reading and see you next time! ;)


End file.
